


Getting Their Act Together (or four first times that weren't, and one that was)

by ShirleyAnn66



Category: Jericho (US 2006)
Genre: A bit more porny than I usually write, F/M, and if you read this you'll know why I don't write porny stuff anymore, another old old old fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-03
Updated: 2018-09-03
Packaged: 2019-07-04 16:36:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15845166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShirleyAnn66/pseuds/ShirleyAnn66
Summary: She was just a small-town girl from Kansas - and he had her thinking things she'd never even dreamed of before.





	1. Garage - Sight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the 2012 SmallFandom BigBang on LiveJournal.
> 
> **Artist: **maiel_alcinoe**  
> **   
>  **Link to art master post:[Is right through here - Go See!! ](http://mintytangerine.livejournal.com/21552.html#cutid1)**
> 
> Beta'd by the lovely and talented [](https://seren-ccd.livejournal.com/profile)**[seren_ccd](https://seren-ccd.livejournal.com/) ** who always goes above and beyond. :D

***/*/*/*/***

Heather glanced up with a startled look when Beck knocked on her garage door, which was open despite the unseasonably cold early November day.

She smiled almost shyly as she straightened and grabbed a rag to wipe her hands. She tried to ignore the rapid beating of her heart and the way her breathing sped up at the sight of him.

"Hi," she said, her voice a bit too breathy, her eyes a little too wide, a feeling of delight at the unexpected sight of him evident on her face.

"Hi," he said, looking just as shy and awkward, leaning against the door jamb. His eyes were vulnerable, although his face was stoic.

"Do you have a minute?" he asked.

She nodded and he walked in, closing the door behind him. He walked almost cautiously towards her, and she raised an eyebrow at his serious expresson and the turmoil of emotion in his eyes.

"I need your help," he finally said, turning to face her from where he was examining her workbench.

"All right," she replied cautiously. Her eyes widened with question as she finished cleaning her hands then leaned up against her other workbench. She watched as Beck restlessly prowled her garage.

"I need to borrow a car. Or a truck." He shrugged. "Whatever's handy, actually, so long as it's non-descript and," he glanced with some amusement at the rundown truck Heather called Charlotte, "reliable."

"Charlotte is reliable," Heather said defensively. At his raised eyebrow she shrugged and added, "to a certain definition of 'reliable'."

He slowly smiled at her and chuckled.

She blinked and blushed lightly.

"So," she said when the silence stretched on a little too long, "you need non-descript, reliable transport. May I ask why?"

The smile vanished from his face.

"I understand if it's something I can't know about," she hastened to assure him. "I'm just - just trying to determine whether you need something that has power and speed."

Beck's smile widened. "You should always assume I need something with power and speed."

Heather wondered if the words were meant to be as suggestive as they sounded.

His smile faded as he continued, "I need to get to Cheyenne without the ASA realizing I'm coming. Unfortunately, I can't do that in an army humvee."

Heather paled, her eyes widening.

"No, you can't," she agreed faintly. "Why are you going to Cheyenne?"

Beck had an indecipherable look in his eyes as he steadily stared at her, but his face gave nothing away.

"All right, okay," she sighed. "It's need to know, and I don't need to know. When are you going?"

"As soon as you can find something for me."

She nodded again, crossing her arms and rubbing them briskly to guard against the sudden chill of fear and worry.

"You're not going alone, are you?" she blurted.

"Jake and Hawkins are coming with me."

Heather attempted a smile. "I'm not sure if that makes me feel better or worse."

Beck chuckled again and prowled towards her. He put his hands on her shoulders.

"Everything's going to be fine," he assured her softly. "We'll be back in no time. Especially if whatever you find for us is fast and reliable."

She nodded, biting her bottom lip.

"I won't let you down," she promised.

He stared at her, suddenly serious, his eyes warm and dark.

"I know you won't," he said softly. "You never have."

For a moment they stared at each, suspended, and Heather's mind suddenly raced with the knowledge that he was going into enemy territory and might never come back and if he never came back, she'd regret his loss to her dying day. She wondered what would happen if she only had the courage to do what her instincts were telling her to do...

_Heather leaned up and Beck leaned down, and their mouths met._

_Beck laced his fingers through her hair, massaging her scalp as he explored her mouth, and she moaned slightly as she straightened, her arms going around his neck as she pressed against him. He sighed against her mouth, and then he was kissing her more deeply, and he was stroking his hands down her back, exploring the curves of her body._

_Heather broke the kiss with a laugh when he lifted her up and set her on the workbench, sweeping the tools off its surface with a loud clatter. He grinned at her as he moved to stand between her legs before he captured her mouth again and all thought of laughing fled from her mind. She wrapped her legs around his hips, holding him closer against her as he rocked against her and she fumbled with his uniform shirt to open it. She slipped her hands beneath his t-shirt and spread her fingers across his skin with a moan of pleasure._

_She felt his muscles flex beneath her fingers and she moaned again, wanting to feel and more importantly, see more of what she was feeling._

_She moaned again as his hands slipped under her t-shirt, stroking upwards over her ribcage to push her bra aside and cup her breasts. He brushed his thumbs lightly across her aching nipples and she arched her back, giving him easier access, silently urging him to continue his exploration, which he did with a low guttural growl of pleasure._

_He stepped back and lifted her t-shirt and bra over her head, then he stood and stared at her naked body, his eyes wide with wonder and desire and Heather shivered at the expression on his face and felt like she was the most beautiful woman in the world in his eyes._

_He gently touched her with shaking hands before she pushed his shirt from his shoulders and helped him lift his own t-shirt over his head. Then it was her turn to stare at him, eyes tracing the muscles in his chest and his stomach before using her hands to retrace the path her eyes had followed._

_He closed his eyes with a deep breath as she touched him then he opened his eyes and pulled her fully against him. The feel of their bodies, bare skin to bare skin, made them both sharply catch their breaths._

_They kissed again, more wildly, and then Heather was scrabbling at Beck's belt buckle and waistband. He dropped his hands to help her, before he worked the button of her jeans free then helped her off the workbench so she could shimmy out of them._

_He threw his army shirt on the workbench before lifting her up again, now completely naked and unembarrassed, and moved to position himself at the opening of her body, feeling her wet heat pressed against his hardness. They savored the anticipation for another moment before he pressed forward, slowly pushing his way inside of her, and they both gasped with pleasure at the feeling._

_He paused to give her time to adjust, and then he started to move, and she wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck and rocked with him. He braced himself with one hand on the workbench and held her tightly against him with the other. His eyes, dark with passion and pleasure, were riveted on her face, watching every expression, every hint of what she was feeling, what she liked, what she wanted._

_She quivered as her pleasure built, her legs tightening around his hips, her mind shorting out from sensory overload, too much pleasure in too many places. She wanted to keep her own eyes open, to watch him and burn these moments into her memory but she couldn't. Her eyes closed and she rested her forehead against the slick skin of his shoulder and gave herself over to the sensations and emotions of the moment._

_She bit into his shoulder as she came, pulsing around him, which triggered his own orgasm and with a guttural half-cry, he shuddered against her, pressing hard against and inside her, before they both slowly relaxed, Heather's sweat-dampened forehead resting once more against his shoulder as she panted for breath and he gasped her name..._

"Heather? Heather!"

She blinked and the mundane surroundings of her garage returned with almost stunning force. She refocused on a regrettably distant Beck who was even more regrettably fully dressed, and Heather silently heaved a hidden but no less wistful sigh as she stared almost guiltily at him.

"Are you all right?" he asked, his brows wrinkled in puzzled concern.

"I'm fine," she said, shaking off the last remnants of her fantasy. "I was just...thinking of who would have something that would - uh - meet your needs."

She hoped that didn't sound nearly as suggestive to him as it did to her. She also fervently hoped he couldn't guess at what she'd just imagined by looking in her eyes. Besides the fact that she would be extremely embarrassed by it, Beck was still a married man, even if his wife and daughter were missing, and had been since the Attacks two years before. She knew he was attracted to her, but it was mixed with guilt, and it was an unacknowledged fact between them that nothing could or would happen while he was bound by the promises he'd made to the missing woman.

Beck was nothing if not an honorable man.

Damn it.

Beck's concerned frown cleared and he smiled, his eyes warm.

"I'm sure you'll do fine," he assured her, his voice low and unconsciously seductive.

"I'll get something for you as soon as I can," she said, then she walked to him and shyly touched his hand. He started slightly, his gaze flicking to their hands before flying to meet hers, his expression startled and surprisingly vulnerable.

"Be careful," she said softly, and he nodded, wide-eyed, his gaze never wavering from her face.

She recognized that look; she saw it often. It was the look that told her he was _seeing_ her - and he couldn't quite believe his eyes; he couldn't quite believe she was real. She always softened under that look, feeling warm and flushed and... _wanted_.

But there was still and always the spectre of his missing wife and child standing between them.

"I'll be careful," he promised her now, his voice husky.

She smiled tremulously for another moment of soft affection, then she blinked, and forced herself to become once again simply Heather, Beck's civilian liaison and friend.

Just a friend.

Her smile became teasing as she said, "Well, just remember - you, Jake and Hawkins are on the same side, okay? Please don't try to kill either of them - or let them try to kill you."

He raised his eyebrows and suddenly looked years younger as he slowly grinned.

"I'll do my best," he promised wryly, and squeezed her fingers.

Her hand tingled for an hour after he left.

***/*/*/*/***


	2. Office - Smell

***/*/*/*/***

Three weeks after they left Jericho, Beck, Jake and Hawkins returned from Cheyenne. The first Heather knew of their return was when she opened the door before dawn to see Jake on her doorstep.

She blinked sleepily at him, shivering in the not-quite winter cold, her mind not yet awake enough to process who was standing there and what it could potentially mean. Then she recognized him and she straightened sharply, suddenly awake as a sharp, painful shaft of fear thrust through her.

She stepped aside to let Jake in, her breath hitching in her chest, her eyes wide and terrified, her hands shaking as she closed the door behind him. The blood drained from her face, and she swayed, wondering if she'd be able to withstand whatever it was Jake was about to tell her that brought him to her door at this ungodly hour of the day.

"He's all right," was the first thing Jake said.

Heather sagged with relief against the door.

"Thank God," she breathed, closing her eyes. Then her eyes snapped open and she looked sharply at him. "So what -?"

"Beck received word his wife and daughter had been captured and were being held in Cheyenne."

Heather gasped, one hand flying up to her lips.

"And?" she asked numbly.

Jake sadly shook his head. "The good news was they'd never been prisoners of the ASA."

"And the bad news?" Heather asked slowly.

"They died in Santa Fe, not long after the Attacks."

Heather closed her eyes against the tears that sprang to her eyes.

Jake looked at her with sad, concerned brown eyes.

He said, "Beck's...not taking it well. I wanted you to know before you see him today. Because he's...he's not himself right now."

Heather nodded, her lips pressed tight. She met Jake's dark, concerned eyes and forced a smile.

She cleared her throat and said, her voice husky, "Thank you for telling me. I appreciate it."

Jake nodded, then gave her a half-smile.

"Take care of him," he said. "We need him. And he needs you."

She blinked at him, her eyes wide and clear and very blue, and somehow still innocent after all she'd been through.

"He needs to mourn," she replied, shaking her head.

Jake's crooked smile widened as he moved past her to open the door and let himself out. "That too. But when he's finished mourning, he's going to look around - and he's already seen you."

Heather blushed hotly as the door closed behind Jake and cursed the fact that as always she wore her heart on her sleeve. Did  _everyone_  know about her feelings for Beck?

She shuffled into the kitchen and set some carefully rationed coffee to perk before she hastened to get dressed. She had a feeling she was going to be extremely grateful for the coffee before her day was through.

*/*/*/*/*

Heather understood why Jake came to warn her when she walked into Beck's officer's quarters an hour later, and the stench of scotch and sweat stung her nostrils. From the smell, he'd decided to literally jump into a bottle of scotch, she thought, as she struggled to gasp for air without being too obvious about it.

Not that he would notice, she thought ruefully, taking in the passed out man slumped at the desk, his head pillowed on his arms.

She sighed with sympathy and turned to the captain hovering behind her.

"Thanks for trusting me enough to let me in here," she said. "I'll take care of him. Let's make sure no one else finds him like this, okay?"

The captain nodded thankfully, and Heather knew the captain's loyalty to her commanding officer would keep the stories to speculation rather than fact. The captain backed out of Beck's quarters, leaving Beck to Heather's not-so-gentle care.

*/*/*/*/*

Three days later, Heather was in the sheriff's office, giving Beck her report like she hadn't helped him to his cot and stripped off his boots and shirt and belt. Like she hadn't cleaned up his quarters and left him water and aspirin for the inevitable hangover when he awoke. Like she hadn't left a pail conveniently beside his cot, along with a small stack of towels and half a bottle of mouthwash.

She'd watched over him for several hours, her heart aching for him, because even with a bottle of scotch in him, he slept restlessly, and Heather wondered what he saw behind his closed eyes that kept him from finding any peace.

She never said a word when they met late the next day, even though he looked like every sound and movement both pained and nauseated him.

Now she was giving him her report like nothing had happened at all.

She glanced up in the middle of her report on the latest from New Bern to find him watching her sheepishly. She stopped in mid-word, and waited for him to speak.

"I understand I owe you some thanks," he said quietly after a moment of silence.

She shrugged and said with a faint smile, "It was nothing. It's what friends do - but you're welcome."

He flushed slightly. "I - I'm sorry you had to, uh, see me like that." He shifted uncomfortably in his chair, obviously embarrassed. "I don't do that very often. I can't even remember the last time I deliberately set out to get drunk. Least of all  _that_  drunk."

She smiled. "I've been working with you for over a year, Beck. I know you don't drink like that on a regular basis." Her smile faded. "I also know it was due to...special circumstances."

He nodded, and dropped his eyes to his hands, his face stark with grief, and Heather's heart broke.

She walked to him and tentatively put a hand on his shoulder.

He turned wide, startled eyes to her and she gave him a sympathetic smile.

"I'm sorry," she said softly and sincerely. "I wish -" she bit her lip, then said, "I wish you could have found them alive."

He gave her a half-smile, his eyes grateful, and covered her hand with his own.

"Thank you, Heather."

The memory of his eyes lingered for days afterwards.

*/*/*/*/*

During the next few weeks, Beck went through the motions of being a loyal ASA soldier and of, well, simply living. At least, that's what it seemed like to Heather's eyes.

He smiled even less than he had before, and it seemed like Heather could almost see the flesh melt from his bones. His face became gaunt, his cheekbones sharp beneath his skin. Dark circles appeared under his eyes and grew darker with each passing day.

And everyone knew that all out war was coming - and soon. Beck was as conscientious about his duties as a soldier and a commanding officer, but Heather was slowly beginning to fear he would go to war - and make sure he never came back.

Heather's heart broke when war finally erupted, and Beck left without saying good-bye.

*/*/*/*/*

The Second Civil War ended with a bang - almost as big as the one that had destroyed the old United States of America.

Three months later - and three more bombs - there were no longer any fledgling governments, corrupt or otherwise. The communications network went down again and the town of Jericho plunged back into darkness and silence.

Only this time, they held no hope for rescue at all.

*/*/*/*/*

Heather once more opened the door before dawn to find a gaunt and exhausted Jake Green standing on her doorstep.

Only this time it was early spring, and before he even crossed her threshold, Jake said, "He's all right. And he's here."

Heather stared at him, her eyes huge in white face, unable to think of anything to say as he stood inside her house's small foyer.

Jake grinned his crooked grin as he reached out and gave her arm a reassuring squeeze. He said, "I hope you give him holy hell for leaving you the way he did."

She nodded, still wordless and watched numbly as Jake turned and walked down her front steps without his usual energy and with a new limp.

Heather slowly closed the door, leaned against it, and silently let her tears slip down her cheeks.

*/*/*/*/*

Unfortunately for Beck, Heather had no intention of keeping her mouth shut later that morning.

She saw him sitting at his old desk in the sheriff's office when she walked in, and she stopped cold in her tracks, oblivious to the hustle and bustle of the newly returned soldiers around her. She stared hungrily at what she could see of his face, her eyes tracing every line and curve. Then her eyes narrowed, her lips tightened and she strode purposefully into his office.

He didn't even glance up when she stormed through the door and stood in front of his desk, her hands planted firmly on her hips. He kept his grim gaze focused on the paper in his hand.

"Really?" she demanded. "You're going to pretend I'm not here?"

He didn't look up but his lips twitched.

"At least until you calm down," he agreed. "I'm not stupid."

"That last point's debatable! And you'll be holding that paper for quite awhile because I have lots to say!"

Beck slid a sideways glance at her then his face softened. He lifted his head and squarely met her eyes as he tossed the paper down on the desk and leaned back in his chair.

"There's no way I'm going to be able to stop you from having your say, is there?" he asked ruefully.

"You left without saying good-bye!" Heather sputtered. "What do you think?"

Sadness flickered across his face.

"I didn't have time to say good-bye, Heather," he said softly. "We had to deploy in less than an hour and you were out at the Richmond farm. Didn't you get my note?"

Heather frowned. "Note? You mean that little two-line thing telling me to be careful?"

Beck's lips twitched. "That's the one."

She deflated slightly. "Yeah. Yeah, I got it." Then she fixed him with another hard-eyed glare. "It's still not the same!"

"I know."

Heather gritted her teeth. He was maddeningly calm and she hated it.

"I was worried sick about you!" she cried.

He tilted his head as he watched her.

"I know," he said quietly. "Would it help if I told you I was sorry? For leaving without saying good-bye and for not being able to send you any messages while I was gone?"

Heather deflated again. She dropped her eyes to his desk and sighed. She knew there'd been big reasons for his hasty departure and even bigger reasons for his silence. But just for once, Heather wanted to focus on the personal...and like always, she understood that in the greater scheme of things, the personal didn't - couldn't - matter.

She sighed, her hands dropping from her hips to hang by her sides.

"I know you couldn't send messages," she said. "Emily was in the same boat with Jake -"

She suddenly realized what she was implying and her wide eyes flew to his as she blushed and stammered, "I - I don't mean the same boat! A similar boat! You know - someone gone and unable to get word to or from them."

Beck smiled slowly, his eyes warm with amusement and genuine affection.

She snapped her mouth shut and stared back at him, desperately ignoring her hot face.

"I know what you meant," he soothed. "I...missed you, you know," he added almost bashfully, his eyes dropping again to his hands.

She looked at him - truly looked at him - for the first time since she'd walked into his office.

He'd lost even more weight, and there were new lines in his face and more gray in his hair. She saw a new scar almost hidden by his hairline and she wondered if she'd ever hear the story behind it. The dark circles under his eyes weren't as pronounced although he looked even more exhausted and heart-sick since the last time she'd seen him. She slowly cocked her head to one side, wondering what else was different, and then she saw it.

He was sad, yes, and she could see he was weighed down with regrets and dark memories and even darker actions. But the raw, very personal, very private pain he'd carried for the months before he left Jericho, clear on his face whenever he thought or spoke about his wife and daughter, was gone.

Or simply well-hidden.

"What?" he asked softly and she realized he was once more looking at her, and it was his familiar, fascinated way of looking at her, and she felt something relax in her that she hadn't even fully realized had been tensely holding itself ready.

"You look tired," she replied and now there was no anger, only concern for him, and relief that he was back.

He nodded and leaned forward, resting his arms on the desk in front of him. "I  _am_  tired."

His eyes darkened as he looked at her and added, "But I'm glad to be back in Jericho - and I'm  _very_  glad to see you again, too."

She was suddenly falling into his eyes and everything around them faded away...

_She quickly moved to where he was sitting and stood between his legs. She gently cupped his face, relishing the rasp of his dark stubble against her calloused fingers and palms. He reverently closed his eyes at the first touch of her hands, then opened them again as she lifted his face and pressed her mouth to his._

_Her kiss was slow and sweet and comforting at first, a welcome home, a promise, an expression of her fear, anger and relief. Then he began to kiss her back, one hand cupping the back of her head, his fingers tangled in her hair, and the kiss quickly changed from sweet and comforting to something hard and dark and hungry, but no less - there was no use denying it any longer - no less_ loving _simply because it was hard and dark and hungry._

_Slow was no longer an option; neither was stopping and moving this to a more comfortable location. Beck pulled her closer and she quickly repositioned herself until she could lower herself onto his lap, straddling him, and she returned her mouth to his._

_They finally broke the kiss, breathing raggedly, and with a half-smile, Heather leaned back to quickly undo his uniform shirt and lay her hands flat on his chest, which was still covered by his t-shirt. She sighed with satisfaction as she tugged his t-shirt up and slid her hands beneath it and around to his back. She leaned closer, pressing her forehead against his, and closed her eyes as she explored his smooth skin. She breathed deeply, and he smelled of soap and shampoo and the scent that was uniquely his own, and she realized just how desperately she'd missed his scent._

_She straightened and opened her eyes to see he was watching her with a look that was a mix of arousal and relief and pain, and she kissed him again as he slipped his hands beneath the edge of her t-shirt and explored the curve of her back, and the skin just beneath the waistband of her jeans. With a hungry groan, she stood. His eyes burned as he watched her shimmy out of her jeans and panties and he never took his eyes from her as he freed himself from his pants. She carefully lowered herself onto him, slowly taking him into her body. They paused, savoring the feeling, and he wrapped his arms tightly around her, holding her close while she buried her face into his shoulder and breathed in their mingled scents._

_She began to move, using her internal muscles to flex around him, trying to be completely in the moment, trying to think only of the fact that he was here and safe and inside of her after all this time, and she wanted to remember this with clarity for the rest of her life. They strained together, and he buried his face into her shoulder as he tightened his grip on her._

_Their breath came in quick pants, their movements quickening, and the scent of their sex filled her nostrils and the office. She reached her peak just before Beck thrust into her one last time, shuddering then slowly relaxing beneath her. He rested his head against the back of his chair, and cuddled her close. She rested her sweaty forehead against his neck, closed her eyes, and tried to catch her breath..._

Heather blinked, and she was suddenly back in the real world. The sounds of the soldiers in the outer office penetrated her consciousness once more, although Beck's attention was still focused on her. She took a deep breath and the phantom scent of their imagined sex teased her nostrils before fading away.

It was time to plant her feet firmly back on the ground, she told herself sternly. He was back, yes - but their world had changed for the worse and the future was even more uncertain than before he'd left.

"Are you home to stay?" she blurted.

His expression softened even as his eyes seemed to burn even more.

"I'm -" he hesitated, almost like he was testing the word before he said it, " _home_  to stay."

She slowly smiled at him, one of her old smiles, the one that lit up her entire face.

She moved behind the desk and gestured at him to stand up. When he did, she enveloped him in a tight hug, her cheek pressed against his shoulder, her eyes closed.

He hesitated for a brief moment, then his arms closed around her as he hugged her close, his nose buried in her hair.

"Your hair smells good," he murmured as they stood together.

"So do you," she sighed.

They slowly parted as the noise in the outer office rose, and they both turned with curious frowns to look out the windows of Beck's office.

Beck's gaze became sharp and assessing as he saw the three bloodied men who had staggered into the sheriff's office and were now leaning up against the counter, excitedly telling their story to the two soldiers behind it.

Beck glanced ruefully at Heather.

"I have to go," he said.

"I know," she said, and followed him out of his office.

She felt his arms around her for hours after she'd left.

*/*/*/*/*

 


	3. Lake - Touch

*/*/*/*/*

The summer sun was hot, beating down on everyone at the lake for the fourth of July picnic. Even though it was now almost three years since they'd been the country that had originally celebrated the fourth of July, some traditions had been kept even if only for painfully nostalgic reasons.

Heather wandered through the area, her tank top and shorts clinging damp with sweat. She glanced at the lake and wistfully thought the water looked particularly inviting. She wished she could simply walk into the lake in her clothes and cool off, but since the end of the Second Civil War had left them even more cut off from the outside world than the Attacks, people were banned from swimming in the lake. It was their only large source of above-ground fresh water for miles, and they were determined to preserve it.

It didn't prevent her from looking at it longingly, though.

"You look as hot as I feel."

She glanced over as Beck strolled up to her. He, too, was wearing a tank top, but with ill-fitting, baggy shorts that stopped just above his knees. She bit back a grin at the sight of his legs which were well-toned, tanned and nicely muscled, but which were not, unfortunately, shown off to any advantage with the shorts and sneakers he was wearing.

He rolled his eyes at her expression. "Don't say anything - I'm lucky I'm wearing anything at all!"

He suddenly flushed at her raised eyebrows.

"I meant," he said firmly but with a smile tugging at his lips, "that most of my civvies were destroyed during the war; I had to borrow these shorts from Bill."

"That explains them," Heather said drily.

"Not my best look?"

She snickered slightly. "Unfortunately, no."

Beck grimaced ruefully. "Yeah, I've already been told I look ridiculous. Several times, in fact."

Heather grinned. "Let me guess...Jake's oh-so-gentle advice?"

"And Stanley's. And Eric's. We won't repeat what Mimi said!"

Heather laughed heartily, and said, "You know, you really might have been better off showing up in your birthday suit instead."

Now it was his turn to raise an eyebrow at her and she - damn it - wasn't just flushing, she was blushing a bright, brilliant red.

He laughed and she grinned at him, shaking her head. She was once again amazed and pleased at how much he'd changed in the last few months from the grief-stricken man who'd returned from Cheyenne, or the grim man who'd returned to Jericho with what was left of his troops at the end of the Second Civil War.

He really did act like he'd come home. More importantly, he acted like he was glad to be back.

Beck said now, "Well, if you're not too embarrassed to be seen with me, would you like to go for a walk?" He leaned conspiratorially closer. "I think I saw a little swimming hole about a mile from here. It's quiet and secluded and the water looks very inviting. If we don't draw attention to ourselves, we may be able to go cool off without the entire town following us."

She grinned at him, her blue eyes shining with exhilaration.

"Lead on, kind sir," she said.

He offered his arm with a flourish. This was something else that had changed since his return. He was more relaxed with her, more playful, more flirtatious - and she loved it.

They walked now in companionable silence, and Heather felt a sharp stab of anticipation as they left the rest of the crowd behind...

_The swimming hole was everything he'd promised._

_They toed off their shoes and Beck discarded his shirt (to her silent but no less sincere admiration) before they slipped into the water which felt like ice against their over-heated skin. They swam or floated sedately for a few minutes, sighing with pleasure, chatting about nothing much, before they inevitably began to splash each other, and to wrestle and play in the water like children. Like children, that is, until Beck had Heather at his mercy, his arms clamped tightly around her waist as he held her suspended in the water to prevent her from successfully retaliating against him for dunking her._

_She struggled, laughing, against him, her wet hair hanging around and over her face. She wrapped her legs around his hips in an effort to gain some leverage she could use in getting his head under the water._

_They both seemed to suddenly realize at the same time that they were touching very intimately - more intimately than they'd ever touched before - and Heather stared at him in sudden consternation. He stared back, his eyes darkening. Their grins faded away and the summer day seemed to hold its breath as they teetered on the precipice, wondering which way they were going to fall._

_Then their mouths crashed together and Heather was once more wrapping herself around him, trying to get closer than it was possible to be given their clothes and their position in the water. Her hands roved frantically over his shoulders and his back, up his neck to his hair, her nails biting into his skin as she tried to absorb him into herself. She felt like she was drowning or starving, greedily kissing him like they'd just invented it. She was dimly aware of movement, but she was too lost in the feel of his mouth against hers and the smooth, bare skin of his chest and back, to pay much attention._

_She squeaked when he carefully dropped to his knees and followed her down to the ground, pressed tightly against her. He rocked against her, hitting her in just the right spot even through their wet clothes. She moaned at the sensation, digging her nails into his back and his buttocks, pulling him tighter against her, one leg hooked over his hip._

_With a panting groan, he pulled away and lifted her up to pull her shirt and bra over her head, leaving her bare to his gaze and the sun. He stared at her for a moment, and she caught her breath at the stark, dark hunger in his face before he bent and took one of her nipples into his mouth. She arched her back as he suckled and laved her skin, his teeth grazing across her sensitive breast._

_They separated long enough to struggle out of the rest of their wet clothes before she rolled him onto his back and straddled him, lowering herself carefully onto him, gasping at the stretch of her muscles as she took him inside._

_He thrust up hard into her, caressing her body as she moved against him, watching him watching her. The naked desire on his face and his intensely focused attention made her feel beautiful and almost seemed as, or even more, pleasurable than the touch of his hands on her body._

_Heather was lost in a sea of sensation, the touch of his eyes burning her, his hands and fingers caressing her, the heat of the sun on her back and bare breasts, the grass beneath her knees, the dampness of their skin from the water and their sweat, and then he hit just the right spot and she bore down, taking him in hard and deep as the world exploded in a kaleidoscope of sun and heat and earth and moisture. She flexed rhythmically around him, and with a grimace and a groan, he squeezed his eyes shut and held her hips as he thrust heavily into her for a final time, shuddering beneath her._

"Heather! Beck!"

She blinked, startled, and looked up to see the swimming hole was already occupied by the Green family - the entire Green family, including the honorary members like Stanley, Mimi and their baby, and the Hawkins. Heather hoped her face didn't show the level of her surprise and disappointment at the sight.

Gail walked towards them with a welcoming grin, her wet clothes and hair silent testament to the fact she'd been in the water herself. Gail's eyes flicked to where Heather's hand was still tucked securely in the crook of Beck's arm then back to their faces.

"So you guys discovered this place too, huh?" Gail asked. "It's always been one of our favourite spots."

She hooked her arm with Heather's and led them towards the crowd already playfully splashing in the water.

"Come and join us." Gail glanced down at Beck's shorts and raised an eyebrow. "Had to borrow clothes from Bill, I see."

Beck sighed and sheepishly hung his head.

Gail laughed.

"Go play in the water," she urged. "It feels heavenly! And just what we need before we have to go back to the lake for the barbecue."

As Beck and Heather toed of their shoes and he stripped off his shirt, he leaned a little closer and said, his voice low, "I'd hoped we'd have this place all to ourselves."

She blinked at him, her eyes getting wider as she realized he was giving her that look that never failed to make her knees weak. That look that told her he was looking at her -  _really_  looking at her - and he thought she was the most fascinating woman on the planet.

She flushed slightly and she bit her lip as she looked towards the many adults and kids splashing in the water. Then she glanced back, levelly meeting his eyes.

"So did I," she said softly.

He held her gaze for another moment before he reached out, lightly squeezed her hand, and smiled almost bashfully at her.

"I'm glad," he murmured, and something inside her melted at his touch.

The memory of the hope in his eyes warmed her for days afterwards.

*/*/*/*/*


	4. Store Room - Sound

*/*/*/*/*

The summer days drifted by, seemingly without end. In spite of their straitened circumstances and the many dangers still lurking on their doorstep and in their future, the days that followed the fourth of July reminded Heather of the long, lazy and happy summers of her childhood. Even though the days were filled with backbreaking work and danger and the struggle for survival, it still - no matter how falsely - felt like there was all the time in the world to do everything she ever wanted.

And she wanted Beck.

By mutual, silent agreement, they seemed to have crossed some invisible threshold into new territory. In the four weeks since the picnic, he'd made a point of walking her home almost every evening. He seemed to be focused on giving her anything she needed or wanted, and began giving her small now-extremely-rare luxuries. So far he'd given her an extra ration of coffee, a tiny bottle of factory-made shampoo, and - once - a small portion of chocolate. Once she realized he was also giving her extra food from his own ration, she began to invite him over for supper, or to share the coffee and the chocolate.

They worked as hard as always, but now he stopped working each day in order to take her to Bailey's for lunch and sometimes supper, and once a week for the past four weeks, he'd asked her out for a drink in the evening. He'd also found a reason to spend at least part of the last four weekends in her company, even if it was just helping her in her garage while she worked on Charlotte or one of the other old trucks and cars that always managed to find their way into her garage.

She was, she'd realized one weekend afternoon, being rather shyly courted. She'd spent the rest of the day and evening with a giddy smile and butterflies in her stomach. But much like the summer itself, she felt no rush to do anything other than simply enjoy the experience.

*/*/*/*/*

The citizens of Jericho had learned the hard way, the day after the Attacks, that the bomb shelters in Jericho needed to be upgraded and maintained. The months after had told them they needed to build new ones in order to protect as many people of the town as possible.

They'd steadily built a number of additional bomb shelters over the last three years, and Beck and Heather were currently in the midst of the quarterly inspection of the generators and supplies in each one. It was a tedious job and normally one that a couple of corporals would handle, but both Beck and Heather had thought it was only fair they take a turn as well.

Which was why Heather had clambered to the top of a shelving unit in a large storage room, calling out the type and number of supplies located on the first shelf to Beck, who was at the door, when the lights went out.

"Shit," Beck said loudly as they were plunged into pitch blackness.

"Shit," Heather agreed fervently as she clung to the top shelf, suddenly feeling disoriented and dizzy.

"Don't move," Beck ordered curtly.

Heather laughed shakily. "No worries there," she assured him, and tightened her grip on the top shelf.

"All right," Beck muttered, then louder, "Heather, I need you to keep talking to me so I can find you."

Heather bit her lip and wished she could see something - anything - in the blackness.

"Heather!"

"You know, in hindsight, we should have checked that generator first. And maybe turned it on."

Beck chuckled and the sound seemed closer.

"I suspect this is a town-wide thing," Beck assured her.

"I'm not sure that's all that comforting right now."

There was a clang and a muttered expletive as Beck bumped his boot into a shelving unit.

He said, "You're right, we should have had the generator running. At least we know we're not in this situation because we forgot to fill the generator up with gas."

Heather felt herself relaxing under Beck's soothing, teasing and unconsciously seductive tone.

"That old excuse?" she joked weakly.

Beck chuckled. "Heard that a lot, did you?"

"Never, actually."

"Nobody ever took you driving on a deserted country road and just happened to run out of gas?"

She shivered a little as the silken tones of his voice washed over her in the darkness.

"I lived a very sheltered life," she replied.

"That's too bad."

"You didn't know the guys I grew up with. Trust me, I have no regrets."

Beck laughed huskily and Heather shivered again. His voice seemed even more seductive and she wondered if it was simply because it was the only point of contact she had outside of the shelving unit beneath her fingers.

Beck said, "I'm going to knock on a shelving unit. Let me know if I've hit the one you're on."

"Okay," Heather said, relieved he was so close to helping her get off this thing in the pitch black.

He knocked once and paused, then he knocked again.

"That's the one," she said.

"Good," and she smiled at the relief in his voice.

"Should I apologize now?" Beck teased, his voice coming closer as he carefully edged towards her.

"For what?" Heather asked, and reminded herself she knew exactly where she was and she wasn't falling even though she felt as though she was about to hit the ground at any moment.

"I'm probably going to end up touching something you don't want me to touch," Beck said and now he sounded like he was right beneath her, although the darkness was so absolute Heather simply couldn't tell for sure.

"If you can find me and get me safely down," Heather replied earnestly, "you can touch anything you want."

There was a sudden, charged silence, and Heather played back her words. She closed her eyes and bit her lip in consternation. She cursed herself even as she blessed the darkness for hiding her embarrassment.

Beck finally replied slowly, "Don't make promises you're not willing to keep."

"Right now, I'm just trying to keep my grip - oh!" she yelped as she felt Beck's hand on her ankle.

"Ah-ha!" he said, satisfaction ringing in his voice. He cautiously moved his hands up her legs to her hips and she knew he felt her shiver. He supported her as she carefully felt her way down one level of the shelving unit. Then he moved his hands to her waist, and they were warm and large and solidly comforting even as they burned her through the light cotton of her t-shirt. Suddenly her knees were weak for reasons other than the fact she was clinging to the top of a shelving unit in the pitch black of a powerless bomb shelter.

"Okay," he said, his voice warm and soothing in the darkness. "I have you. On the count of three, let go and I'll lift you down."

Heather nodded then realized he couldn't see her.

"Okay," she said.

"One - two - three," Beck counted and Heather let go. Beck took her weight onto his chest and settled her on her feet like she was as light as a feather.

She sighed in relief, and she rested against him for a moment, enjoying the heat of him against her back. Then, his hands still resting lightly on her waist just at the curve of her hips, she carefully turned around in his arms. She muttered an apology as she bumped into his chin and chest.

"Thank you," she said softly once she was facing him, her hands resting lightly on his chest.

His fingers tightened on her waist before his thumb stroked slowly, firmly across her hip bone.

"You made me a promise," he said, his voice smooth and silky and close to her ear, his breath stroking across her sensitive skin.

She shivered as she pressed her hands more firmly against his chest. She could feel his heart beating rapidly beneath her palms.

"So I did," she agreed and she was shocked at how husky her voice was, how hungry she sounded. How... _sexy_.

His thumbs continued their slow exploration of her hip bones, sending heat pooling in her centre and her breath hitched in her throat. It felt somehow primal as they touched in the stygian darkness, unable to see their hands or each other. All they could do was feel and hear, and her breathing sped up as Beck slowly skimmed one hand up her side from her waist to her neck to her face. He brushed his thumb lightly against her slightly parted lips.

In that split second, Heather saw the future.

_ Beck replaced his thumb with his mouth and she moaned in both pleasure and relief at the first touch of his lips. The kiss was deep and searching and thorough and all she could think was the man was definitely living up to the promise of his voice. Without light, Heather felt as though every inch of her skin was extra sensitive, and even the slightest caress seemed amplified a hundred times. _

_ Beck carefully pressed her up against the shelves, his hands skimming down her back to her hips, then lower to caress her bottom and press her more closely against him. Her own hands moved over him, exploring the contours of his chest and back, frantically pulling his shirt out of his pants so she could touch his skin. _

_ Beck was even quicker; he burrowed his hands beneath her shirt and shoved her bra out of the way before she'd even managed to pull half of his shirt out of his waistband. She whimpered sharply into his mouth at the feel of his hands on her naked breasts and bucked against him, wanting more, wanting to feel his mouth on her, wanting to put her mouth on him, and yet wanting -  _ needing _\- to keep kissing him._

_ Hands scrabbled at buttons and zippers, and Heather bit back a high pitched cry as Beck dipped his fingers below the waistband of her panties and caressed her. She finally relinquished his lips as she threw her head back, rubbing and thrusting against his talented fingers, her fingernails biting into his shoulders as he placed his mouth on her neck. _

_ Beck's breathing was harsh in the darkness as his fingers worked against her and then they were gone, and he was pushing her shorts and panties down around her ankles and he was kneeling and oh dear jesus god  _ nothing _was supposed to feel that good and if he stopped doing_ that _right_ there _she'd kill him so help her god - and then the storage room was lit up by the fireworks going off behind her closed eyes and she was shuddering against his mouth and tongue and it seemed even more powerful because she couldn't see anything but could only feel._

_ Tremors were still running through her body, and she was dragging in deep, ragged breaths as he removed his mouth from her body with one last swipe of his tongue. He carefully pulled one of her legs out of her shorts and panties before he straightened to his full height. _

_ He kissed her again as he fumbled with the fastening of his pants. He lifted her bare leg and wrapped it around his waist as he pressed forward, lifting and bracing her on and against the shelving unit. She gasped then groaned with relief and pleasure as he slowly thrust into her. She heard herself making soft, incoherent sounds of welcome and pleasure; she heard his harsh breathing rasping in her ear. She closed her eyes and savored the moment, the feelings and the sounds and the scents they created as he worked in and out of her. He gathered her closer, held her tighter, his movements sped up, and her own pleasure began to build once more. _

_ He buried his face against her neck as she panted in his ear, telling him how good he felt, how close she was to coming, and then she was, flexing rhythmically around him, as he pounded into her before stiffening in her arms, a deep, guttural groan ripped from his throat. _

_ They panted in the sudden stillness, and Heather revelled in the burn in her muscles, in the stretching of her body to accommodate him and she put her head on his shoulder, closed her eyes, and sighed with satisfaction. She opened her mouth and - _

The lights came on as suddenly as they'd gone off, and Beck and Heather froze, blinded now by the light instead of the dark.

They instinctively closed their eyes, squinting and grimacing at the pain of the sudden brightness, and they each buried their face in the other's shoulder. They stood in silence until their eyes adjusted to the light.

Heather rather shyly met Beck's eyes and she slowly smiled at the wide-eyed, uncertain look on his face. She never failed to be charmed by his pragmatic decisiveness in his military life and how that aspect of him was in such stark contrast to the vulnerability in his eyes when he looked at her.

They stared at each other in suspended silence, and neither made any effort to move away. Heather bit her lip and her smile grew bigger as Beck slowly began to smile at her in return.

Heather said, "Do you think we should go find out what happened?"

"Probably," Beck agreed, but his voice was still low and silky, seductive and seductively dangerous.

"Do you think we're under attack?" she asked slowly.

Beck shook his head. "If we were, my men would have gotten us out before I ever found you in the dark. I think we had a temporary power failure. We probably had a windmill off-line."

Heather nodded, her eyes wide as she melted a little against him, leaning closer as he spoke. A small part of her mind wondered how such a grim, and now sadly mundane, topic of conversation could feel so...intimate.

"We still need to finish the inventory in here," he reminded her huskily.

She nodded again. "But I also made you a promise," she said softly.

She felt a blush begin to climb up her face when she heard her flirtatious tone.

"So you did," Beck solemnly agreed, although his voice was rough and he'd caught his breath at her words.

She hesitated, then blurted, "And I want to keep it."

His smile expanded into a full, wicked grin.

"Glad to hear it," he murmured before he swiftly leaned down and kissed her.

She closed her eyes and melted into the kiss. It was firm and he swept his tongue into her mouth for only a brief moment before he lifted his head. He dropped another quick peck onto her lips before he straightened with purpose. She pouted at him because the kiss was over far too quickly, but she couldn't help her smile because the promise in the kiss was unmistakable.

They reluctantly disentangled themselves and headed to the door of the bomb shelter in mutual unspoken accord.

She glanced at him as they walked to the door, his hand resting in the small of her back.

She said, "Supper? At my place? Tonight?"

He steadily met her eyes and said huskily, "I'd like that."

For the rest of the day she blushed whenever somebody asked her why she was grinning at nothing.

*/*/*/*/*


	5. House - Taste

** */*/*/*/* **

It was early evening by the time Beck and Heather confirmed that, yes, a windmill had gone off-line and been hastily repaired. Beck's mechanics were now swarming all over it and the others and for once, Heather wasn't needed to help.

Beck had made sure of that, much to Heather's secret amusement and, she had to admit, she'd been flattered and touched.

Now he was walking her home and the butterflies that had been in her stomach since they'd kissed in the storeroom were fluttering in earnest.

It was a beautiful late summer day, but the coolness underlying the gentle heat was already gently reminding them of the long, dark winter days to come.

For a moment Heather frowned, suddenly worried about the windmills. Beck placed a warm hand on the small of her back and said, "My men will take care of it."

She blinked and frowned at him before she relaxed, slowly smiled and nodded. She felt cold when he moved his hand, but she warmed again when she realized he'd only moved his hand so he could almost hesitantly link his hand with hers.

They ambled along, and the people they passed glanced from their joined hands to their faces and smiled happily at both of them. Heather felt both embarrassed by the attention from others and thrilled at the feel of his calloused palm against hers.

Heather glanced at Beck and blinked at the thoughtful frown on his face.

"Is something wrong?" she asked as they turned onto her block.

"Wrong?" He seemed to be tasting the word. "No, not... _wrong_."

Now it was Heather's turn to frown.

He met her eyes and smiled. "It's just..." he trailed off and shrugged. "I was just thinking...I'm a little rusty at all of this." He gestured vaguely between them.

Heather's mouth curved into a smile as she led the way up the stairs to her front door.

"Rusty in what way?" she teased. "I thought you did quite well in the storage room."

He chuckled as he closed the door behind him and began to remove his boots.

"I was inspired," he said.

Heather ducked her head and blushed slightly. "I'm glad," she said softly.

Their gazes met and clung, then Heather cleared her throat and said, "So why were you frowning about it?"

Beck finished removing his boots and padded after her into the living room, the frown back on his face. He stood and rubbed his hands almost nervously on the back of his pants.

"Heather," he began, solemnly meeting her eyes, "I was married for twelve years. Very happily. We dated for three years before that. And it's been three years since I -" his voice broke, and he cleared his throat. "Since I lost sight of my family."

"I know," Heather said gently, rubbing her own hands on the back of her shorts.

He gave her a half-smile.

"What all that means is it's been - dear God - eighteen years since I've been on a date, or," he shifted his weight slightly and shrugged, "or made love with a woman other than my wife."

Heather steadily watched him as he spoke, then said again, very gently, "I know."

"That's why I'm rusty at..." Beck once more gestured vaguely between them, "all this."

Heather smiled.

"I'm rusty, too," she assured him. "If you're willing to try, then I'm willing, too, and we can take this at whatever pace feels right. For both of us."

He smiled ruefully. "Shouldn't that be my line?"

She chuckled and shrugged. "I knew you were thinking it," she assured him.

He sobered and his look changed into one of fascinated wonder, a look that never failed to warm her all the way through.

"You're a remarkable woman, Heather," he told her almost reverently, "and I'm more than willing to try."

She smiled as she walked across the living room to him. She put her arms around his waist and rested her head trustingly on his shoulder. His arms closed around her and she shut her eyes as she stood and listened to the beating of his heart. For a moment she rested against him, feeling safe and cherished. Feeling like she'd come home.

He pressed his cheek to the top of her head. "What's this for?" he asked softly.

She shrugged and lifted her head to look at him.

"Because I've wanted to do this for a very long time," she said.

His eyes dropped to her lips then flicked back to her eyes.

"And...it's time," she added.

Their lips met in a sweet, almost chaste kiss.

There was no urgency, no desperation. It was both new and familiar, almost like they'd been here before, and not simply because they'd shared a kiss in the store room.

Beneath the sweetness Heather could taste an almost dark passion, curling inside and around them, but in this moment they were in no hurry to release it. There would be time, Heather knew as she took him by the hand to lead him to the bedroom.

And this time, Heather knew she truly was seeing the future...

_ There would be time to do all the things she'd fantasized doing with him over the last three years. Time to experience all the different ways making love can feel. She knew there would be days when they wouldn't make it out of the entryway. And there would be weeks when they wouldn't make love at all. There would be times when the sex would be angry or sad, funny or joyful, adventurous or conservative or even slightly kinky. _

_ And she looked forward to all of them. _

_ But she also looked forward to eating breakfast with him; to perhaps someday walking down an aisle towards him; to raising their children and watching their grandchildren grow. She looked forward to the mundane challenges inherent in two people trying to build a life together. _

But that was all yet to come. This moment, and the immediate future, was about taking those first steps towards the future.

As they stepped into each other's arms and kissed, Heather thought the future had never looked more beautiful.

#####


End file.
